Run to You
by DukeDevils9192
Summary: It's the end of the school year at Degrassi and life is crumbling apart for more than one character
1. Default Chapter

[This story is written as a season finale of the third season and also, to understand, you must assume that anything that, in reality, happens after the episode "Why?" does not exist. What has happened has all been a figment of my imagination and you will be filled in on it as the season progresses. This episode also features an 80s song title, just like the rest-this one by Bryan Adams. I'm also not including last names with the characters because frankly, that's a waste of my time to check on spelling and to make sure I get the correct names.]  
  
Run to You  
  
"One more down, two more to go," Spinner cried as he walked down the steps outside of Degrassi Community School. "So glad to have that one over with."  
Jimmy followed behind him and patted him on the back. "Yeah man, it's nice to know that it's over. Summer break. Hell yeah!"  
"So, what do you have planned this summer, Jimmy?" Paige asked, placing her hand in Spinner's as the three made their way down the sidewalk.  
"Who knows? I'll probably be around here."  
"Yeah, right," Spinner told him sarcastically. "You're probably going to be sailing to some faraway land, one of those places like, um, those far away places."  
"Maybe I'll pay to get you hooked on phonics, man," Jimmy grinned.  
The two guys had gotten to be pretty good friends again once the Marco controversy died down, but they still managed to vent frustrations in small scathing remarks every now and then, some more scathing than others.  
"You're so funny, dude," Spinner told him. "So funny that I forgot to laugh."  
"Okay, what are you, like two?" Jimmy asked. "How do I respond to that comment? Oh, oh I know." Jimmy cleared his throat. "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me."  
Spinner looked for something to respond, but then realized how stupid he'd sounded to begin with. He got a somewhat facetious sad look on his face.  
"Aw, hon," Paige said, patting him on the hand, "it's okay. It wasn't that lame. You could be king of the sandbox with you're sarcasm, I promise."  
Spinner rolled his eyes and ignored Jimmy and Paige laughing at each other.  
As he attempted to ignore being laughed at, Spinner's eyes landed a few feet ahead at two people coming in the opposite direction. He bit his bottom lip.  
It was Dylan and Marco.  
Spinner had come to grips with the fact that Marco was gay and they'd reconciled, but he still found out hard to imagine that Marco was dating Paige's brother. The fact they dated didn't bother him as much as the thought of them kissing. The first time he saw them kiss he fought back an urge to scream, "Fags, damn fags, stop it!" But, he caught himself. A year ago, he would have. He would have made gay cracks until he was blue in the face. Now, he just thought them mildly. He considered it an improvement.  
"Hey guys," Marco said cheerfully. He'd been a different person since he and Dylan had gotten together. Degrassi had welcomed them with mostly open arms and that made him feel normal and accepted for once.  
"Hey you two," Paige said, reaching out to kiss her brother and give Marco a hug.  
"Spin, Jimmy, sup fellows?" Dylan said with a quick smile.  
Spinner openly shuddered at the smile, but Jimmy caught him with an elbow to the gut. Marco and Dylan didn't seem to notice.  
"I'm trying!" Spinner screamed in a whisper.  
"Try harder!" Jimmy said back in the same tone. "Uh, not much, guys," he said trying to get back on topic. "Just heading home. Where you two headed?"  
"Marco's going to help me get my locker cleaned out and then help me get my graduation stuff all together to make sure everything fits," Dylan said.  
"Yep, should be a fun day," Marco told him looking away. Dylan playfully punched him in the arm.  
"Hey Spin," Dylan said, "how's it going?" He knew Spinner was still uncomfortable with the gay relationship and he loved to capitalize on it. He liked Spinner but he figured he owed him for the many "homo" jokes he'd had to endure.  
"Uh, uh, it's good, very good. School's out, grade 11's around the corner, and I got a great girlfriend, who, I might add, I treat with a lot of respect and never put in any compromising situations." Spinner wouldn't admit it to anyone, but Dylan scared him to death. He'd seen the way Dylan was on the ice during his hockey games. He was brutal.  
"Oh yeah? Not what she told me." Dylan let go of Marco's hand and walked up to Spinner and looked down on him.  
Spinner gulped and blinked a few quick times, flashing his trademark smile to cover the fact he was getting scared. "She, she what?"  
Dylan stared at him hard for a second, then grinned, and then busted out laughing. "You are such a wuss, Spin. For someone who threatened to beat up that Toby kid a few times for messing with your sister, I'm thinking you may not be as tough as you want everyone to believe."  
Spinner sighed with relief and then decided to act like he knew all along, which was typical Spinner fashion.  
"No, no, I knew all along. Can't fool me. I just wanted to play along and make you feel powerful for a little while longer."  
Dylan chuckled and patted Spinner on the top of the head. "You kill me, Gavin."  
Marco checked his watch and motioned for Dylan. "Let's head out, they're locking the school up in just a few minutes."  
"All right guys, we're out. Paige, I'll see you at home." Dylan gave a quick wave to everyone before grabbing Marco's hand and then heading off.  
"By hon!" Paige called quickly.  
Spinner turned and watched them walk off. "I don't get it. I don't get it all. I mean, really, how can you."  
Paige interrupted him, "Spin, watch it!"  
Jimmy shot him a quick glance.  
"I was just going to say, how can you not sit and wonder just how David Blaine managed to go that long in that stupid box?" Spinner smiled.  
"Dude, you're such an ass," Jimmy said before laughing. 


	2. Say Your Goodbyes

"Well, your blood pressure looks good and you say you feel okay- that's as good as it's going to be for now, Mr. Simpson," Dr. Jones, a doctor who made house calls to check on terminally ill patients, said.  
"Thanks doc," Snake said, struggling to sit up in bed. Ever since he'd been diagnosed with leukemia, he'd lost all his strength and, at the moment, his will as well.  
"Stay off your feet as much as you can, of course, and get a lot of rest." The doctor pushed himself out of the bedside chair and closed his medical chart. "The chemotherapy may start working. Give your body the time to recuperate."  
"Yeah, yeah, I will," Snake said between gasps of air. "I'll rest."  
The doctor smiled and turned to the doorframe where Spike stood, listening to the conversation between her husband and the doctor. Dr. Jones gave her a faint smile and took her by the arm into the hall. Spike shut the door behind them.  
"I'm not a specialist by any means, Mrs. Simpson," the doctor said, "but in what I do, I have been exposed to numerous cases such as your husband's."  
"And?" Spike asked.  
"Listen, I've seen people make miraculous recoveries, recoveries that modern medicine probably would have deemed impossible."  
"Again I ask, and?"  
"Mrs. Simpson, you and your husband were high school sweethearts, correct?"  
"We had some time in high school together, yes. Doctor, listen, I don't mean to be pushy, but I'm tired and the baby's spitting up and Emma's not home yet. Is there a point to the questions you are asking me?"  
"It's just that I think you should be thankful you have a lot of memories of your husband to reflect on."  
"So, you're telling me there's no hope?" Spike's voice dropped to a whisper, careful not to raise her it because Snake might be able to hear the conversation through the door. He'd been so down on himself lately, so sad and depressed, not the wise-cracking, smart-aleck Archibald Simpson she'd had a crush on in high school and wound up marrying. The last thing she wanted was for him to overhear a conversation about him not being able to make it.  
The two made their way outside as if to search for the right words to continue their conversation.  
"As I've told you before, there's always the possibility of a miracle. I see all types of patients and I've seen all types of miracles." Dr. Jones paused and bit his bottom lip. "But, Mrs. Simpson, I've also seen a lot of, um, how do I put this?"  
"Tragedy? Dying? Hurt? Pain? Is that what you're getting at?" Spike found her voice getting louder, but she managed to catch herself before she got too loud.  
"Yes ma'am, that's what I meant."  
"Why would you sit here, in my home, and tell me this? Why would you, someone who is admittedly not a cancer specialist, sit here and try to tell me my husband is dying?" Spike's whispered screams were scathing in tone.  
"Listen, Mrs. Simpson," Dr. Jones said, collecting himself, "I didn't come to hurt you. I only want you to know something."  
"Make it quick, my daughter is on her way home, and I don't want her overhearing anything. She doesn't need to worry about this."  
"I want you to know how lucky you are that you have the memories of your husband that you do. I want you to remember those memories and share them with him. If you have anything to tell him, I suggest you tell him soon. That's all I'll say."  
Dr. Jones seemed to vanish after he finished his spiel to Spike.  
Spike stood on her front porch for a few moments, attempting to gain her thoughts. She had been aware of that Snake's days were numbered. At first, she told herself he'd beat it, but in her heart, she had a sinking feeling that he wouldn't. She kept a positive exterior, but inside, she had been torn up from the beginning.  
"School's out!"  
The sharp voice opened Spike's eyes. It was Emma. She had never been happier to see her daughter.  
"Hey, Em! How's it feel to be in grade 10 now?" She reached out and hugged Emma.  
"So good!" Emma said with a smile. "It's been a long year, you know?"  
Spike sighed, smiled, and nodded. "Yes, I know."  
"Oh, and look at this," Emma said reaching into her backpack. "My marks this term were fantastic."  
Spike reached out and took Emma's report card and smiled. "I'm so proud of you."  
"Me too," Emma said.  
She took her report card back and stuffed it in her backpack. "So, mom, how was the doctor's visit?"  
The question took Spike by surprised and even caused her to shudder a bit. "Oh, it was, well, okay. He's just a general doctor anyway, he doesn't really know what he's doing besides taking vital signs and things like that."  
"What'd he say, mom?"  
"Oh, nothing, nothing."  
"Mom!" Emma said, tilting her head sideways, scrunching her forehead, and giving her mom a demanding look.  
"Okay, okay, why don't we go inside?" She placed her arm around Emma's shoulder and took her through the door.  
As they sat on the couch, Spike took a deep breath, something she seemed to be doing a lot since Snake had gotten sick.  
"Mom, tell me." Emma touched her mother's hand that was noticeably trembling.  
"Emma, sweetie, it's his opinion that Snake doesn't have much time left. He told that he, um, thinks that if we have anything to say to him, we should now." Spike began to rapidly blink to hold back her tears.  
Emma looked down at the floor and then closed her eyes. She'd been waiting for her mom to tell her that news and she'd tried to prepare herself. It wasn't working.  
"Well, you said yourself that this guy doesn't really do anything besides check vital signs," Emma said trying to ease the mood. "I mean, really, what does he know? Yeah, he checks on sick people, but what does he know about them?" She was searching for things to further her denial.  
"Yeah, I mean, he doesn't really know anything. He's probably a quack. Maybe he isn't even a real doctor. Maybe he just carries that bag around. I mean, even I can take blood pressure, right?" Spike's weak smile tried to illuminate the mood, but it couldn't. Emma was young, but far from ignorant. "Well, hey, mom, I told Liberty that I'd come hang out with her some tonight. She's been lonely since her and JT broke up." "Sounds fun, Em." "Will you tell Snake I'll talk to him later? I have a great story about the new media immersions teacher that he'll love to hear." "Yes, I will." Spike smiled. Emma opened the door to the front porch. Standing there, she peered over her shoulder, tears welling up in her eyes, and gently spoke, "I love you- dad." 


	3. The past, future, and Spinner

[Hopefully, this will be the weakest chapter I've written. Not that I meant to write it weak, but after I wrote it, I realized it's not very good, so hopefully it won't become a trend. Weak dialogue and shoddy narrative aside, this is a very important chapter as far as content, so rest assure that there is a reason I didn't just erase it completely. Very important foreshadowing in here.]  
  
"I can't believe I'm cleaning out my locker for the final time," Dylan said.  
"I bet it feels wonderful," Marco said, pulling a book off the top shelf of Dylan's locker and tossing it in the box on the floor. "I know I can't wait."  
"Treasure it, Marco, treasure it." Dylan stopped for a moment to reflect with eyes fixated on the empty locker space. "It goes by too fast. Grade 9 and grade 12 seem no further apart than grade 11 and grade 12. I'll miss Degrassi, I'll miss the hockey team, and I'll miss you."  
Marco smiled bashfully and began to think about how much he'd miss his boyfriend. He wished he'd met Dylan earlier in his tenure at Degrassi. It would have made life a lot easier for him. Coming out to all his friends and family was one of the toughest, if not the toughest, things he had ever had to do. His family struggled to accept it, but they did. His friends, with the exception of Spinner and at first, Ellie, had welcomed the decision with open arms and had been supportive. When he fell in love with Dylan, the pieces of his life seemed to fall into place.  
"So what's for dinner tonight?" Dylan asked, slamming his locker shut and looking up and down the front of it.  
"You tell me. You're paying."  
"You're so needy," Dylan said with a grin.  
"Nah, just cheap."  
"What about the new Mexican restaurant by the mall? Paige and Spin went the other night and said it was fantastic."  
"Ha, maybe we shouldn't go then," Marco said. "Spin and I don't see eye to eye on a lot of things anymore." He leaned against the lockers and slid down to a seated position on the floor.  
Dylan sat down beside him. "I thought you two had gotten better and worked everything out," he said.  
"I mean, I guess things are better. When he found out about the time I was beaten, he was pretty sympathetic and promised he'd try to understand." Marco felt tears start to well up in his eyes like they generally did when he got emotional. "But, I still don't think he does. I still think he's homophobic. I think he attempts to be friendly because of Paige, not because of me."  
"As cliché as it sounds, Marco, if someone can't accept you for who you are, then why do you need their acceptance anyway?"  
Marco buried his face in his knees and then looked up. "You're right, you're right, you're right-you're always right. But, Spinner was my best friend. I mean, he thinks I'm odd for dating you, but I think he's odd for dating a girl. I understand that I can't understand his emotions. Why can't he understand that about me?"  
"I don't know." Dylan stopped and then started again, "Are you happy, Marco? Are you happy about us? Are you happy with being who you are?"  
"Yes, I am."  
"Then, why are you so concerned with making Spinner happy? Why can't you be content with making the one person who matters most happy? If you're happy, then nothing else should matter."  
"But, he was my best friend! This wasn't some sort of loose friendship, we were as close as two people could be. It may have never appeared that way on the surface in front of everyone, but when we'd hang out together, he would actually open up to me. Dylan, I miss that and I want that back."  
"What you need to do is talk to him."  
"Don't you think that's crossed my mind?"  
"Don't let it cross your mind-do it! Beneath his tough exterior, this guy has a heart. He can be an understanding person if he'd allow himself. Lay it on the line for him. Ask him if his stupid prejudices are worth giving up a friendship."  
Marco's eyes met Dylan's and his crying seemed to cease.  
"Do you think he'll understand without Paige's influence?"  
"I don't know. Listen Marco, he may end up disliking you even more because of it; I won't sugarcoat that for you. I'm going to be a realist. But, it's worth a shot. Just try. I don't like seeing you like this."  
Marco smiled and hugged Dylan. He seemed to always know what to say to an overly emotional Marco. He was grateful to have him and thankful he'd met him. He could not even begin to imagine what his life would be like if he ever lost him. He didn't want to be obsessive, but he couldn't help it.  
"Let's go, I'm starving," Dylan said. He stood up, took a hold of the box with his senior memories in it, and slammed his locker shut.  
The two made their way down the hallway and then, out to the front steps of the school. As the door shut behind them, Dylan turned around and gave it a quick look. He could see through the glass door and looked into many memories past. The hallways were narrow and everything in his past seemed so structured. He was worried of what the future would hold, but couldn't imagine it being anything but the best.  
"I can't believe it," he said. "My Degrassi experience just ended with that door closing."  
"That is pretty amazing, but I'm sure university will be much better," Marco said. "Besides, the past may have been great, but just look to the future. Who knows what will happen? I guarantee it'll be more interesting than anything you have packed in that box or anything you've experienced in those halls."  
"Let's hope so."  
The guys made their way to Dylan's car and climbed in, setting the box in the backseat. The car ride was kind of silent, Marco and Dylan both reflecting on everything they'd just talked about-Spinner, the past, and the future.  
"Nice place in here," Marco said when they entered the restaurant.  
"Definitely is," Dylan said. "I hope the food is as good as this place looks."  
They were seated and as they were looking over their menus, a waiter brought out a basket of tortilla chips and a bowl of hot salsa.  
"Thanks," Marco said, attacking the chips as they were set down.  
"Wow, and I thought I was the hungry one," Dylan said with a chuckle.  
"They looked good, what can I say?"  
"You can say, 'Dylan, you can have some too, I promise I won't bite your hand off.'"  
Marco rolled his eyes and shoved the basket in Dylan's direction. "Enjoy."  
Dylan took a chip out, but didn't dip it in the salsa.  
"Oh come on," Marco said. "Are you too much of a wimp to go for the hot salsa?"  
"My middle name is hot salsa, Marco," Dylan said popping the chip in is mouth. "I just have a few mouth ulcers and hot stuff really bothers them. I'm not going to sit here and deal with that kind of pain."  
"Uh-huh, I see," Marco said with a laugh.  
"I'm serious, these things are spread out in my mouth. They're very painful. I'm going to give a call to my dentist, see if he has any recommendations to get rid of them. Maybe some mouthwash or something."  
"Good luck with that then, but I still think you're just a wuss."  
"Fine, fine, believe what you want," Dylan said. "But, remember, I could still kick your ass if I wanted."  
They both laughed for a minute and the proceeded to order. 


	4. A familiar face in an unfamiliar place

".and JT was all, 'I'm so sick of you doing this!' Can you believe it?" Liberty looked over at Emma and waited on a response.  
Emma sat in silence and stared at a spot on the wall where the paint had chipped off. She had gotten lost in her thoughts while Liberty went on and on with her latest fiasco with JT. Emma knew she should be listening, but she just didn't feel like listening. Too much was on her mind.  
"Emma?"  
Again, there was no response-just an empty silence. "Emma?" Liberty screamed. "What-huh-oh, Liberty, sorry," Emma said, snapping out of her almost hypnotic trance. "Did you hear what I said?" Liberty asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah, of course I did." "So, what do you think? Doesn't it suck?" "Yeah, it sucks, all right. I mean, who wouldn't think it sucks? I definitely do and I know everyone would agree." Emma hoped that answer was the one she should be answering with.  
"Emma, do you even have a clue what I was talking about?" Liberty asked with a frown on her face.  
Emma sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "No," she said, a guilty grin creeping across her lips.  
"I didn't think so. Is it Mr. Simpson?"  
"Of course."  
"Not getting better?"  
"Not that I can tell. The chemotherapy completely destroyed his system and he just seems so disinterested these days. He has no will to even move around in bed. He gets up to go to the bathroom, but that's it. It's been forever since he's spent more than two minutes with Jack."  
"Wow, that is bad. You think he's just giving up?"  
"I don't know. I can't imagine him doing it. He loves my mom, he loves me, he loves Jack, he loves teaching, but it seems like he's convinced himself he has no choice but to quit." Emma felt a tear start to drop down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away.  
"I can't believe it."  
"Yeah, neither can I."  
"How's your mom?"  
"She's holding up, but barely," Emma said. "She's real strong- willed, there's no doubt about it, but I think she's running out of gas fast. Between the baby and working extra hours at the salon to make up the pay for the doctor's bills she's exhausted, and then, she has to take care of Snake. I try to help out as much as I can, but during the school year, I've had very little time. Hopefully, this summer, I can help out more."  
"I hope you can."  
"I do too." Emma blinked a few times as if to flush her eyes out and then wiped more tears away. She looked down at her watch and decided she should leave. She appreciated Liberty's listening, but felt that she needed someone else to talk to.  
"Listen, Liberty," she started, "I'm sorry I wasn't much help with the JT stuff, but I need to get going. I have some stuff to do around the house and um, I just need some time alone. My thoughts are jumbled now."  
"I understand," Liberty said. She got up off her bed and threw her arms around Emma's neck. "We've disagreed in the past, Em, I know that, but I'm always here if you need me. I promise."  
Emma was almost sick of hearing that from people, but she knew Liberty was sincere so she smiled and thanked her. Then, she showed herself out of Liberty's house and made her way to the bus stop at the corner.  
Emma took the short ride to the train station and then bought herself a ticket. She knew where she needed to be. She needed a place that was unfamiliar, yet comfortable and only one person could provide that type of relief.  
After a lengthy train ride, she got in a cab, and made her way to her destination. When she arrived, she opened the doors to the unfamiliar hallways, and stepped up to the front desk.  
"How can I help you?" the woman in the white coat asked, looking up from her computer.  
"I'd like to see Shane McKay please," Emma said.  
"And you are?" the woman asked, her eyes full of suspicion.  
"I'm Emma Nelson, his daughter."  
"Oh, well, then, I remember you from another visit." The nurse stepped out from behind her desk and led Emma up the stairs. "If you don't mind, Ms. Nelson, I'll have to check in first, to make sure everything is okay. You understand, I'm sure."  
Emma wasn't in the mood to be talked down on like she was a child, but she wasn't going to talk back to the nurse.  
"Yes ma'am, of course I understand," Emma said.  
The nurse stopped Emma at the beginning of a hallway and told her to stay put. The nurse then made her way to a door few doors down. She lightly tapped on it and then pushed it open.  
Emma could hear voices but was unable to make out what they were saying. She waited impatiently until finally, the nurse made her way out of the door, wearing a hint of a smile.  
"It can't be long, but Shane would love to see you now." The nurse stepped out of her way and guided Emma into the room. She left the room, shutting the door behind her.  
Shane was looking at the floor, staring at his feet, mesmerized by something about them. There was a mirror and the floor and Shane was startled when he noticed Emma's reflection in the glass.  
"Em-Em-Emma? Emma? Is that-you?" Shane stuttered over his words but his facial expressions left no doubt in Emma's mind that she'd made the right choice in coming to see her father.  
Emma reached out to him and touched his outstretched hand. He gave it a tight squeeze and for the first time in a long time, Emma felt a smile stretch across her face.  
"It's me, Shane. It's me."  
"Emma!" Shane cried. "It's Emma! It's Emma!" He began to do a little dance number, one where he spun in circles for a few seconds. Finally, he calmed down.  
"What-what-what are you-you doing here, Emma?" Shane asked, his broken speech not bothering Emma much.  
"I had to see you, Shane. Life at home isn't going very well for me right. I've been very sad."  
"Aw, why sad? Why are you sad? Don't be sad!" Shane scrunched his forehead as if to think hard about something. He smiled and then reached behind him. He snagged something off his bedside table.  
"Look, Emma! Look! Don't be sad, it's me and you!" It was the picture Craig had taken of Emma and Shane the first time they met. She'd given it to Shane when he left her house the day Jack was born. "Look, it's happy!"  
Emma couldn't help but smile. She felt a battle with her emotions. She hated to admit it, but her dad's mental handicap absolutely crushed her. She couldn't help but look down upon for it even though she knew it wasn't the way he wanted to be. However, she also loved him. She'd only seen him twice since she was very young, both times being within a few days of each other, but she adored him. The child-like features the she disliked him for, she loved him for.  
"Right, it's very happy. I love that picture." Emma took the picture from Shane's hands and held it to her heart.  
Shane smiled at the gesture and then touched his heart too.  
"Why-why-why did you come here?" Shane asked. "You don't come a lot."  
"I know, but you do live an hour from me. That's a long way since I can't drive."  
"I can't drive either," Shane said. "I was going to drive, but then, I-I-I hurt my head." He tapped his head much like he'd done the first day he'd met Emma. "Long way down."  
"I know Shane, I know." Emma sympathetically looked at him and touched his knee. "I came here because I just need to talk."  
"Talk? Talk? About what?" Shane asked.  
"Snake's sick."  
"Snake sick?"  
"Yes, Snake's sick." Emma felt the tears start to well up in her eyes again.  
"He needs medicine! I take medicine! Lots and lots of medicine!"  
"He is taking medicine, but it's only making him feel worse," Emma said. She spoke slowly but didn't know if that would help Shane understand her anymore. She didn't care, though. She wanted him to understand her, of course, but even if he couldn't, she had someone to talk to, someone who seemed interested and someone who cared. That's all she'd wanted since Snake had gotten sick-someone to talk to.  
"Worse? Is-is-Snake going to-to die?" Shane looked concerned but he obviously was unable to comprehend the entire conversation.  
Emma looked down at her feet and a tear hit the toe of her tennis shoes. She breathed a deep sigh and felt her heart start to race, because she knew what the answer was and it wasn't what she wanted.  
"Emma-Emma-Emma?" Shane started calling her name repetitively. "Snake going to die?"  
Emma blinked a few times and felt Shane's hand reach across the gap between them and wipe the tears from her cheeks.  
She raised her head and spoke softly. "Yes." 


	5. Changes

[Wow, I never thought I'd get this far behind in updating this story, but life happens. I'll try to do better, but no guarantees. For all I know, it could take a year to write all that I want to write. We'll just see.]  
  
Several days had passed since Marco and Dylan had talked sitting on the floor of Degrassi. They'd only seen each other once in those couple of days; Dylan didn't feel well and Marco was doing a lot of thinking about a lot of things-his future, Dylan's future, and Spinner's friendship. Those three things were on his mind so much that he barely ate anything and slept even less.  
Finally, Marco decided he needed to see Dylan. So much was on his mind and Dylan always knew the right words to say-he always had. That's what made Marco fall in love with him. Dylan took care of him. Dylan made him feel important. Dylan never judged Marco because he knew what it was like to struggle. When he saw him, he knew he could just talk and even though the problems would still be there, the stress would be alleviated.  
He tapped on the front door of Dylan's house and was greeted by Paige's smiling face.  
"Hey hon!" she cried, grabbing him around the neck and giving him a kiss on the cheek.  
"Hi Paige," Marco said. He grabbed her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. "I bet you can guess why I'm here."  
Paige reared her head back and put her finger on her lips as if to think. "I'm willing to bet it's not to raid my underwear drawer like Spinner said he was going to do today." Suddenly, Paige stopped and looked behind her and down the hallway into her room, where she'd left Spinner unattained. "Oh my God, Spinner! Stop!" She took off, leaving Marco standing in the doorway by himself.  
He figured he'd let himself in. After all, he was dating the son in the family and both parents were at work-there was no one there to stop him and he probably wouldn't have felt rude otherwise.  
"Dylan? Where are you?" Marco was sure he was outside because he'd seen his car sitting in its usual spot in the driveway.  
"He's in his room, Marc-Spinner, put that back!" Marco heard a few loud slaps and Spinner cry out "Paige! Stop! Paige! Ow!" in between each slap. Marco got to Dylan's door and tapped a few times. "Come in," a weak voice said.  
Marco turned the doorknob and walked inside the room. It was decorated in hockey memorabilia, both from Degrassi and other professional banners he had picked up. There were some pictures of him and Paige scattered across the wall and even a few pictures of him and Marco.  
"Hey there," Marco said, shutting the door behind him.  
"Hey Marco," Dylan said, pulling himself up in his bed and propping his back up with a few pillows. He looked terrible, like he'd been through hell. The color in his face was flushed, his eyes bloodshot and puffy, and his hair going in all different directions.  
"Wow, you look horrible," Marco said, sitting down on the foot of the bed.  
"Yeah, come to think of it, I do," Dylan replied with a grin. "I don't feel too hot, either, though, you know?"  
"I wouldn't think so. What's wrong?"  
"Oh, just a virus."  
"That's good."  
"Yeah, really good," Dylan said, his voice trailing off.  
"Dyl-" Marco began.  
"So, how's the last few days been?" Dylan cut him off. "I'm sorry I haven't gotten in touch with you to tell you I was this sick. Just been doing a lot of sleeping and staring at the ceiling and stuff. Haven't been very personable."  
"No, it's okay. I've been doing some thinking myself."  
"Really?"  
"Yeah," Marco said gently.  
"Do tell."  
"Oh, the usual stuff," Marco said. "The same stuff I've been thinking about for a while now."  
"Spinner?"  
"Some. Not all, but some." Marco bit the inside of his cheek.  
"Me?"  
"Of course."  
"What about?"  
"Next year," Marco said, throwing his hesitation aside and deciding that spilling his heart out would be his best bet. "Dylan, I'm finally happy. I'm finally secure with myself. Yeah, people talk. Yeah, I'm still that 'faggot' in the hallway, but who cares? I'm happy. You'll be at university next year and I'll still be at Degrassi. I don't know if I can make it without you."  
"You did it before me, and you can do it after me," Dylan said weakly. The color seemed to flush out of his face more and more with each passing second. "Or, at least, you might as well."  
Marco took offense to that statement. It sounded somewhat crude and snappy, but he didn't say anything. He swallowed hard and shook it off.  
"Yeah, but before you, I was still uncomfortable inside. People- well, Ellie-wanted me to be someone I'm not. I had to hide a lot from others. After I met you, I was happy because at least you were there-even before we got together. Yeah, I have friends, but none of them make me happy unless I know you're somewhere nearby-somewhere I can visit easily."  
"Marco, that's really cool," Dylan said. "Really cool" wasn't what Dylan wanted to say, but in his condition, there was nothing else that would come out. "I mean, I'm really glad you feel that way." His eyes trailed off behind Marco's head and out the window. The sun was bright and Dylan was entranced by it.  
Marco sighed. "But, I know you got to move on, and I know you'll still be around. I mean, we can still-"  
"Marco, I'm sick."  
Marco stopped and gave Dylan a look that said, "Of course you are."  
"Yeah, I know, I can tell," Marco said to him, touching his hand.  
"No, you don't understand. I'm sick."  
"Sick?" Marco said, his heart starting to pound. He could feel sweat beginning to form on his brow.  
"Marco, since we started dating, I haven't been completely honest with you."  
"What do you mean?"  
"Look," Dylan began, managing to sit up a little bit more in the bed. "I told you that I'd never slept with anyone-that was a lie."  
"Oh."  
"Yeah, oh."  
"Well, um, who was it?"  
"Someone I didn't know, someone I'd met through a friend. He was older. He was a great guy, actually, but things didn't work out."  
"Oh."  
"It's been only a few months since it happened, a month or so before I met you." Dylan sighed and then continued, "It wasn't anything I regretted really, but it was something I didn't want you to know. It seemed wrong. I wanted to seem like this perfect guy for you and I thought you'd think otherwise if I told you about him."  
"Oh." It was all Marco could say. He knew it was redundant, but he really didn't care. "So, you-"  
"Let me finish, please."  
"Okay. Finish."  
"I wasn't going to bring it up, but Robert called right after you and I got together. Robert's the guy I'm talking about."  
No shit, Marco thought.  
Tears began to well up in Dylan's eyes. "Marco, Robert is HIV- positive."  
"Oh my God," Marco said, covering his mouth with his hand. He looked away for a second and then felt his eyes get wide. Things were piecing together.  
"Oh my God, Dylan," Marco cried, "please don't tell me.please.please don't."  
"He didn't know. We used protection, but, well." Dylan's voiced trailed off and his tears started to flow freely.  
"Dylan, please, tell me a lie," Marco said. "Tell me anything other than this-tell me something else-please. Tell me it's okay."  
"Marco, I-"  
"Tell me, damn it!" Marco yelled, jumping off the bed.  
"That's what the mouth ulcers were, that's why I look like this. I'm not sick from the virus as much as I am just emotionally worn out."  
"I can't believe this!" Marco dropped to his knees and caught his face in his hands. "I can't believe this."  
"Well, I'm not exactly jumping for joy!"  
"I can't be here. I can't be here." Marco repeated that phrase to himself over and over as he pulled himself off the ground. He walked over to the framed picture of himself and Dylan. He picked it up and stared at it.  
Then, he looked at Dylan, whose eyes were bloodshot. His cheeks were puffy and colored a deep crimson.  
Marco looked back at the picture and started to set it down. Then, real quickly, he looked back at Dylan, and then picked the picture back up. Staring at it, he blinked and then reared back and threw it against the wall, the glass shattering on impact.  
He stormed down the hallway, to the sounds of, "Stop it, Spinner! Those aren't for you!" echoing through the house.  
He let himself out. 


	6. Streets of Heaven

Emma's train ride home was a long one. She'd enjoyed seeing Shane and it felt good to have someone to talk to who wouldn't talk back and who didn't have their own problems, but it didn't help her get her mind off anything.  
When the train arrived at the station, Emma decided she didn't want to go home just yet. She decided she'd walk around for a little bit and maybe she'd find somewhere to go.  
The summer sun was setting behind a set of trees and the air was warm, but not hot. There was a delicate breeze in the air, but no hint of cold weather. Emma loved it and she felt happy walking. The fresh air always did wonders for her, and that, plus the beautiful weather, was very good for her spirits.  
Before she knew it, she ended up at Degrassi Community School. She paused in front of the school and took a seat on one of the benches. Her eyes became fixated on the school's name. It was Snake's workplace, the place she'd known and loved him as a teacher before she knew and loved him as her father.  
Emma stared at the emblem for a few more minutes and then got up. She slowly walked up to the building and found herself nose-to-nose with the window that peered into Snake's classroom.  
Inside, she could see the computers that lined the room. He lived to be a computer geek and that's how he was able to make money off of it. He loved his students and, for the most part, they loved him too.  
The classroom had been redecorated by the permanent substitute that had come in at the end of the year. The posters that Snake had put up that epitomized his love for computers had been taken down and in place, there were colorful posters with simplified instructions on how to use certain programs. It was something Snake wouldn't approve of if he saw-he was much too dry and intelligent to have that.  
"Everything's changing," Emma said to herself. She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the window. "He's being replaced already."  
She pulled her head off the window and opened her eyes, stepping away from the window. She stumbled back into something, but she didn't know what.  
"Oh!" she cried startled. She focused her eyes for a second and then realized who it was. "Sean?"  
They'd had a nasty breakup and hadn't spoken in a long time outside of an occasional "hello" that would be followed by a fight.  
"Hi, Em," Sean said. His hands were in his back pockets and his eyes were fixated on his feet. "How are you?" His voice was shaky.  
"I'm okay," Emma said. "How are you?"  
"Good, good-yeah, good," Sean said.  
"You know, you can lift your head up and look at me. I really don't mind."  
Sean let out a sigh and then looked up at Emma. He had a nervous smile on his face. "Yeah, yeah I know."  
"Let's not be weird around each other, Sean," Emma said. "Not now, at least. I'm just not in the mood to be mad at you."  
"Maybe I should leave, then," Sean said with a half-smile.  
Emma looked at him and realized how comforted she felt by the fact he was there. She tilted her head at him and then said, "No, why don't you stick around with me?"  
"On one condition," Sean said.  
"What's that?"  
"That we take a walk and stick around together. I don't want to be near this damn place for another three months."  
Emma laughed and realized how little Sean had changed personality wise, even if his friends were different. "Fine, fine. We can arrange that."  
Sean put his hand on her back and led her away from the window. Part of Emma clung on to the window, but the rest of her was glad to get away.  
"So, can I ask what you were doing with your nose against the glass?" Sean asked.  
"You just kind of did," Emma said. "And it wasn't my nose-it was my forehead. Big difference."  
"Okay, I'm sorry. Why was your forehead pressed against the window? Is that better for you?"  
"Much better," Emma said. "I was looking into Snake's classroom. Looking at how the class was changed and how, well, everything is changing as well."  
"Yeah, Mr. Simpson," Sean said, "how's he doing?"  
Emma looked away from Sean for a second and then turned her attention back to him. "Well, I never looked into his classroom before he got sick. I never looked into his classroom when he was sick and doing well. What does that tell you?"  
Sean rubbed his forehead and stopped in mid-stride. "I'm sorry, Emma."  
"Yeah, me too. Look, Sean, can we talk about something else for a little bit? Just to take my mind off of it."  
"Oh, oh, oh definitely," Sean said, still stuttering. His stomach was in knots talking to Emma. He hadn't been happy since they broke up and he longed just to have a few moments to talk to her. Now that he was getting it, it was emotionally rough on him, but a roughness he was willing to handle.  
"Thanks."  
"So, what classes did you sign up for?" Sean asked. It was a generic question, but he had to jumpstart the conversation somehow.  
"Nothing great," Emma said. "The required stuff of course, plus a film course, a botany course, and a creative writing class."  
"You write?" Sean asked. "I never knew that."  
"Well, I don't, but I figured it'd be something interesting to learn. Plus, I didn't want to take a computer course, because, well, it wouldn't feel right."  
Sean saw his cue to jump in and change the subject, which he did quickly, starting to talk about some gossip he'd heard before the end of the year.  
The time went by quickly and before they knew it, the sun had set on them. The day had become dark and they hadn't fought. They both knew it was nice and they realized they would be able to hold onto a friendship without having to fight or make-out. It was refreshing for them both to know they could move on but hold onto that piece of their life.  
They decided to call it a night when they arrived at Sean's house.  
"I'd invite you in, but well, the place is a mess," Sean said. "Big surprise, right?"  
Emma laughed and said, "No, it's okay. I need to get home anyway. I've been gone all day. Mom's probably worried."  
"Well, it was definitely great getting to talk to you again, Em," Sean said. He went back to looking at his feet.  
"Is there something on your shoes that you just love?" Emma asked.  
"Nah, I just, I don't know." He looked up. "Em, would it be okay if I hugged you?"  
"I'd hate you if you didn't try." They embraced and Emma felt secure in his arms. She didn't want to let go because she knew what she was facing if she did.  
They finally broke free and Emma looked at him adoringly. "Thank you for tonight Sean, you really helped me out. I feel a lot better now."  
"Anytime," Sean said. "We'll have to get together this summer. Just stop by sometime."  
"I will. But don't worry, I won't come in."  
They both laughed and exchanged a final goodbye before Sean shut the door.  
As Emma made her way down the street, she started looking up at the sky. There was a full moon and countless stars filled the sky. The small breeze from earlier in the day had turned into a nightly chill, but still, nothing uncomfortable.  
She walked for a little bit longer and finally reached her house.  
She went up to the door and noticed it was slightly ajar. She pushed her way in and shut the door behind her.  
"Mom!" she cried. "I'm home."  
There was no answer.  
"Mom!"  
Still no answer.  
"Mom! Where are you?"  
Emma made her way into the kitchen and didn't see her mom. She walked around down the hallway and saw Snake's door was shut halfway. There seemed to be a little light coming from under the door, but there was no noise that she could make out.  
"Mom," Emma said quietly. She got closer to the door and heard something inside. She couldn't make out what it was, but it was a soft, muffled noise.  
Emma pushed the door open and saw her mom's back sitting on the bed. The telephone was at her side. She was crying.  
"Mom?" Emma said, barely making an audible noise.  
Spike turned around slowly, her eyes puffy and red. She was holding a tissue to her nose and mouth.  
Emma stared at her. Her eyes began to fill with tears and her jaw started to tremble. The room got very bleak, as if the color had been washed out.  
"Mom, what's going on?"  
"Oh, Emma!" Spike cried, pulling herself off the bed and running at her daughter. She wrapped her arms around Emma and they both began to sob uncontrollably.  
As they sat in the embrace, Emma cleared the haze from her eyes and peered over her mother's shoulder into Snake's bed.  
When she saw what was in the bed, she pushed her mother away and put her hands over her mouth, attempting not to scream. Her knees buckled and she collapsed to the floor. She couldn't even make herself cry. Spike jumped to the floor to grab her daughter, but Emma managed to push her away, although she couldn't even feel her arms as she did it.  
Snake was in his bed. His eyes were open and there was even a minor smile across his face.  
But there was no breathing. There was no movement. There was no blinking. There was no sound.  
Snake was dead. 


	7. Tears for Fears

[So, I got behind again, I'm sorry-life happens, you know? Anyway, at the rate I'm going, this could take forever to finish. I'm looking to have ten parts and if I continue to pump them out at this rate, I'll be done in January, which is a lot longer than I expected to spend. Oh well, thanks for all the comments: keep 'em coming!]  
  
Marco opened up the front door to his house and stormed inside. Behind him, he grabbed the door handle and slammed it shut, so hard that he was afraid the glass might shatter on the impact.  
His parents weren't home, it seemed as if they were always working or running errands, and he was glad. He didn't want to see them now, he wouldn't know how to explain it to them. They were supportive when he came out, but they were still adjusting to the idea. How could he break the news to them that his boyfriend was HIV-positive? They had never slept together or even come close, but he didn't want to listen to his parents asking about it.  
Marco walked into his kitchen and dropped his head to the kitchen counter.  
"This can't be happening," Marco muttered under his breath, even managing to laugh a little. He couldn't believe his luck. Laughing made sense to him. He was almost a caricature of a person sometimes.  
He was short and skinny and was Hispanic, which made him different than the black and white children he grew up with. He was gay. Now, when he thought he had peace, the person who gave him that peace was going to die. He was unsure of how one person could have luck like that-it seemed unfair.  
Marco walked over to the refrigerator and opened the door, pulling out a glass bottle of juice and setting it on the counter. He reached to the top cabinet and pulled down a glass.  
As he unscrewed the top of the bottle, the telephone rang. The last thing he wanted to do was answer the phone, but Marco still managed to drag his body over to the telephone.  
"Hello?"  
"Marco." a girl's voice trailed off.  
It was Paige. Marco's eyes rolled in the back of his head. He didn't want to talk to Paige. If he talked to Paige, it would remind him of Marco and she was more than likely calling to ask if he was okay. He didn't want anyone asking that. He didn't want to deal with it. But, he decided he'd talk anyway, even if he wouldn't be the friendly person people were used to.  
"Yeah?"  
"Marco, I'm so sorry."  
There it was-the one thing he didn't want to hear.  
"Yeah, well, it's not me who slept around."  
"Marco!" Paige snapped. "He didn't sleep around. He slept with one guy. He wasn't whoring himself out or anything."  
"Don't defend him."  
"He didn't cheat on you, Marco! It's not like he was running around behind your back! This is like him punishing you because you kissed Ellie."  
"No," Marco said, "it's not the same! He lied to me. He told me he'd never been with anyone else, but he lied. He's a damn liar. I hate him!" Marco's voice had gone from unstable, but soft, to loud and out of control.  
"Calm down, please," Paige plead. "Please."  
"Why didn't you tell me about this when I came to the door? Why did you let me go in there like a fool?"  
Paige paused for a second. "I didn't even know until after you left. Honestly."  
"You want me to believe that?" Marco asked. "You want me to believe that he didn't tell his own sister?"  
"He didn't tell me because he knew that I'd tell you! He wanted to tell you himself."  
"That's so stupid," Marco said.  
"Maybe so, but he was doing it protect you, not hurt you. Marco, why can't you understand that he cares about you and he told you because he cared?"  
"If he really cared, he would have told me to begin with," Marco said. "He wouldn't have waited until he was on his death bed before he told me."  
"Shut up!" Paige said, starting to lose control herself. "He's not on his death bed. Gain some perspective, Marco!"  
"If you don't stop yelling, I'll hang this damn phone up, Paige," Marco said. His reactions were completely out of character for him, but he couldn't help it. It had been a rough time for him and he wasn't sure how to handle it properly.  
"Marco, look," Paige started, her voice trembling, "I just don't want you to lose control and lose your relationship."  
"Yeah, well, if Dylan gave a damn about me or our relationship he would have been straight up with me from the get-go. But, no, he wasn't. He lied."  
"Fine, fine. Listen, if you're not going to listen to me and be reasonable, then at least let me tell you something else so that you don't blow up when it happens, because you'll probably take it the wrong way."  
"What is it?" Marco asked spinning around. When he spun around, his elbow caught the bottle of juice and knocked it to the floor, sending glass across the floor. "Shit!"  
"Marco, what is it?"  
Marco didn't bother answering, he just slammed the phone back on the hook, and dropped to the floor to begin cleaning.  
As he picked up a piece of glass to throw away, the doorbell rang, startling him. The surprise of the doorbell caused him to fumble the glass and put a small, but deep, cut in his hand.  
The doorbell rang again and Marco cried out, "Stop! I'll be there in a second!"  
He grabbed a paper towel from the counter, wet it, and wrapped it around his hand to stop the blood. The doorbell rang again and Marco started to scream back, but then, he saw who was standing behind the glass door: Spinner.  
"What he is doing here?" Marco said to himself. It must have been the surprise that Paige was going tell him about. Marco wasn't sure if he would be able to handle talking to Spinner, who, more than likely, would have something hateful to say.  
Marco walked to the door, holding the paper towel to his cut, and then opened the door. "What do you want?" he asked.  
"Can I come in?"  
"For what?"  
"To talk."  
"About what?"  
"About, well, stuff," Spinner said slowly. He couldn't believe he'd come to Marco's house, a place he'd been afraid to visit since Marco came out to him. He imagined that when he opened the door, pink would be everywhere, with Liberace posters hanging on the walls.  
Marco wasn't sure if he should let him in. Spinner looked sincere but that meant nothing to him. Marco was too mad already. "What stuff?" Marco asked angrily. "The stuff that shows that every gay stereotype you have has come true? The stuff that says that maybe I have HIV, too? The stuff that says I should go to hell? What is it, Spin? Huh? Tell me."  
Spinner was taken back by Marco's reaction. He didn't expect to be welcomed with open arms, but he thought Marco would be a little calmer, it was just his nature to be peaceful.  
"Look, just let me come in, Marco, please," Spinner begged.  
"Fine, come in," Marco said, grabbing his hand to apply more pressure to the wound.  
"Your hand looks bad, Marco," Spinner said, eyeing the cut. "What happened?"  
"Well, first, I slept with Dylan, then I slit my hand open so I could give HIV to the next person who walked in my door." Marco glared at Spinner.  
"Marco, get a hold of yourself!" Spinner cried almost fearful of getting near Marco. Marco really was a kind, gentle person, a person he would trust with his life-he was in shock of the sudden personality change.  
"Spinner, what do you want? Why are you here?" Marco sat down on his couch and faced out the sliding glass door that led to his backyard.  
Spinner sat down in the seat that was across from the couch and rubbed his hands together. "I'm sorry, Marco."  
"Yeah, I bet you are."  
"Marco, listen to me," Spinner said. "I really am sorry. You are my best friend, I trust you with anything. Yeah, you're different in my eyes, I don't understand how one guy could want to have another guy's."  
"Not helping, Spin."  
"Oh, yeah, sorry," Spinner apologized. "Look, my point is that I'm here for you, Marco. I know I haven't been in a long time. I know I've been scared, I know I've been weird, but now, Marco, I'm here."  
Marco's lower lip began to quiver, his eyes welling up in tears. Spinner could see that his hands were trembling and that he'd lost the grip he had on the paper towel that was over his cut. The blood was starting to run down his hand and over his wrist.  
"Spinner, I'm scared," Marco admitted, turning to face Spinner.  
Spinner was hesitant at first, but then managed to stand up and walk over to Marco. He sat down beside him. "Of what?"  
"If Dylan dies, then I'm back where I started. I'm back to being the kid who has no idea who he is, the kid who turned down Hazel and Ellie, the kid who no one wants to be in the locker room with." Marco fell into uncontrollable tears. "Spinner, I'm just now happy with myself! I don't want to lose this feeling."  
"Look, I'm, uh, not very good at this, so I won't pretend to be." Spinner was in an awkward position and he was starting to wish he hadn't come over at all. Then, he realized that Marco would have done it for him. "But, I can tell you that you have to go back to Dylan. When I left the house, he was the one in tears-he's scared of the same things you are-you need him."  
"He lied Spin," Marco said. "And not about something simple, not about calling me or something. He lied to me about his virginity and if he lied about that, who's to say what else he's lied about? What if he doesn't really care for me?"  
"That's bull!" Spinner cried. "You know, I don't talk to Dylan much, but the times we have talked, well, he just adores you, man-maybe even loves you-I don't know, I don't know if I want to know-you leaving would kill him. He needs you now more than ever!"  
"But really, what if he gets AIDS and then he dies? What then?"  
"Then he'll die knowing that someone cared, I guess," Spinner said. "Don't let him get sick knowing that the one person he needs doesn't want to be there."  
Spinner felt weird giving advice and Marco felt weird listening to it, but they both knew that it was working. Spinner was showing a compassionate side that Marco had never seen and even managing to surprise himself in how well he was handling the situation. Marco was actually coherent and was able to comprehend what Spinner was saying-he hadn't even been able to comprehend his own thoughts for a while. Marco felt some sort of security talking to Spinner, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like Spinner really was his best friend.  
"Okay, fine," Marco said. "I'll go there, but not now. I need a few days to gather my thoughts and emotions and all that. I can't go over there too soon."  
"Marco man, come on, you can do it."  
"Spinner, look, if you want to play Mr. Psychologist, then that's good, but you have to meet me somewhere in the middle and let me decide some of this on my own. I promise I'll go."  
Spinner breathed deeply and reluctantly agreed. "Fine, but no more than a few days. After that, I'm going to hunt you down and drag you over there."  
They sat and stared for a long pause. Finally, Marco broke the ice, with a simple phrase.  
"Thank you, Spinner."  
Spinner looked up and smiled. He wasn't sure what to do next, but he let his emotions get the better of him and he reached out and grabbed Marco around the neck, hugging him.  
Marco was taken by surprise, but didn't mind. He had his thoughts compiled and his best friend back-nothing could ruin that moment.  
"No problem, Marco." 


	8. Reunited

The funeral was beautiful. Emma had never realized how many students respected Snake as a teacher and she was touched by it, but it didn't make the time any easier.  
At the receiving of friends following the funeral, Emma sat in a chair that was placed in the corner of the room. She had her legs crossed, her arms folded, and she carried a solemn grin on her face. Her eyes were cold and her demeanor even colder. She hadn't been much for conversation since she'd seen Snake's lifeless body.  
".and yes, we do appreciate it," she heard her mom say, shaking Mr. Raditch's hand. The Degrassi principal was actually showing emotion as he wiped a tear away from his eye. Emma had never seen Raditch show any vulnerability; he was as hard-nosed as they come.  
"Christine, I've known you for a long time," Raditch began, "and I've known you to overcome a lot. You can handle this. We at Degrassi will certainly miss Archie. He was incredible as a communicator and mentor."  
"Yes, yes, I know," Spike said, her eyes focusing on a group of Degrassi students who were standing in a cluster sipping on drinks, a cloud seeming to loom over their head.  
  
"I just can't believe it," Jimmy said. "I mean, it's like, well, I don't know."  
Terri nodded and began, "I knew he was sick, but wow, I didn't know it had gotten this bad. I thought he'd just spent the remainder of the year out to finish up chemo."  
"It's just how life is," Ashley said. "You don't realize how fragile it is until it hits this close to home."  
"Mr. Simpson was a pretty amazing teacher," Jimmy said. "I'll miss him, for sure. Media Immersions wasn't easy, but he certainly knew his stuff." He chuckled. "Damn, he was a dork."  
The faces of the group of students lit up when remembering some of the goofy things that Snake had done as their teacher.  
Suddenly, they stopped.  
"Is it okay to laugh over this?" Craig asked, his eyes suddenly becoming filled with concern.  
The group paused and looked down at the floor as an awkward silence filled the area.  
"Of course it's okay," a female voice said.  
The group turned and saw Spike walking towards them. There was a chorus of greetings and she smiled sheepishly.  
"Don't worry about laughing at Snake," Spike said. "He was a goof. But, he prided himself on that. I can't think of anything he'd love more than to hear you guys laughing at him and the things he did."  
"Well, we loved him," Terri said. "I don't think any of us would have admitted it when he was quizzing us on Photoshop, but we did. I actually looked forward to going to his class."  
"And he looked forward to teaching the classes he taught." Spike looked around. "You guys are all in grade 10, right?"  
The students in the group nodded.  
"He had a special bond with you guys. Don't get me wrong, he loved all his classes, but there was something about your class that he just adored. I think I see why."  
Terri wiped a tear from her eye and Jimmy put his arm around her.  
"We're so sorry Mrs. Simpson," Ashley said. "I know you've heard it a lot, but really, we are. We'd give anything."  
"I know," Spike said, cutting her off. She stretched her arms out and embraced several of the students. "I would too."  
  
Emma was still sitting in her chair as the crowd began to clear out. She had moved only once throughout the several hours that people had crowded their house and that was only to wipe some tears from her eyes. She had cried, but her expression had never changed and she never felt any different. She would just tear up and that would be the end of that.  
She looked at the front door and saw her mom hugging several different people as she held baby Jack.  
"He's so innocent," Emma thought to herself. "He's so lucky. He has no idea what's going on. I would give anything for that right now."  
Spike finally shut the door and then cradled Jack in her arms. She looked adoringly at him and grinned. She looked up and did a double take on every visible part of the house. Her grin faded. Finally, her glance landed on the stern Emma.  
"It'll be okay, Emma," Spike said slowly.  
Emma just glared at her, not sure of what to say. It wasn't like Spike had delivered earth-shattering news, but she still wasn't sure how to respond.  
"Emma, please, don't lose control of yourself," she said.  
Emma just looked down at her knees.  
Jack let out a cry and Spike quickly put him against her shoulder. "I'm going to go put him down for the night," she said. "I'll be back out in a few."  
Spike disappeared into the hallway and Emma found herself sitting in a room that was symbolic of the way she felt-empty.  
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She wanted to get up and answer the door, if only to stop the knocking from making her crazy, but she didn't. There was another series of knocks. She still wouldn't get up.  
Finally, the doorbell rang.  
"Em!" Spike cried from the backroom. "Emma, please get that. I don't want the doorbell to wake up Jack, he's starting to fade, thankfully."  
"Fine," Emma muttered, finally standing up. It felt good to stretch her legs out a bit as they were definitely cramped. "I'm coming!" she cried unenthusiastically.  
She opened the door slowly, without checking the peephole to see who it was, and she felt like a weight was taken off her shoulders-it was Sean.  
"Sean!" she cried.  
"Hi, Emma," he said slowly. "How are you?"  
"I'm not good," she said. "How are you?"  
"Been better, definitely."  
"I was wondering if you were going to show up or not."  
"You were?"  
"Yeah, well, I sat in the corner for the last few hours-I didn't have much else to think about." Emma noticed her words were coming out smooth and her thoughts were coherent. It definitely helped to see Sean.  
"Well, I got to the service late, and I decided I'd wait to come over here, so I could talk to you alone some."  
"I'm glad you did."  
"Do you mind if I come in?" he asked.  
Emma looked outside and noticed the sun was almost done setting. It was a very nice night and she needed some fresh air.  
"Actually, let's go for a walk," she said.  
"You sure you're okay to leave?" he asked.  
"Yeah, I need it. Please don't say no."  
"Oh, oh, of course, not."  
"Hang on, though," Emma said. "Let me go tell my mom. She won't want me to just leave."  
Emma made her way into Jack's nursery room and saw her mom sitting in a rocking chair, her nose peering over the crib walls.  
"Mom," Emma whispered.  
Spike turned around, her eyes slightly puffy. "Hi, Em," she said. "Who's at the door?"  
"Oh, it's Sean," Emma said. "He came by to see how I was. Do you mind if I go take a walk with him?"  
"Are you sure you're up to it?"  
"Are you sure you're up to it? I won't leave if you need me to stay."  
"No, Em, you finally sound normal. Go take this time and hang out with Sean some. It'll be okay. Trust me."  
Emma looked at her mother, her eyes filled with admiration. "Thank you." She walked over to her mom and put her hands on Spike's shoulders, followed by a kiss on the cheek. She finished it off with a bear hug around her neck. "Mom, we made it once-we can do it again."  
Spike smiled, goosebumps running up her arms. "You're right," she said. "The Nelsons did it once-the Simpsons can do it, too."  
Emma left the room and saw Sean still standing on the front porch stuff, obviously feeling a little awkward.  
"Let's go," Emma said. She walked outside and joined Sean, shutting the door behind her.  
They strolled for about a minute with very little conversation outside of a comment about the breeze being wonderful. They approached a dead end of a street and Sean stopped. He hopped up on the wall that signaled the dead end and told Emma to join him. In her best dress, she managed to leap up and sit beside him.  
"Emma, I want you to be honest with me," Sean said. "Are you going to be okay?"  
"Am I going to be? Probably. Am I right now? No."  
"You know, I lost both my parents. Maybe not physically, but emotionally, it's like they don't exist to me. And I'll tell you, that's difficult. But, look at me, as weak-willed as I am, I overcame it."  
"Yeah, I know, but right now, it just seems so hopeless."  
"It'll probably be like that for a while," Sean said. "It won't be an easy summer for you or your mom."  
"Sean, did you bring me out here to bring me down even more?" Emma asked.  
Sean chuckled and looked up at the sky. "No, not at all. I just was saying, that's all."  
"You know, you can't accuse Snake of not fighting this thing," Sean said. "It's pretty awesome to think he put all his fight into it just so he could be around for you and your mom. He really loved you. You are really lucky."  
"Yeah, I was," Emma said.  
"No," Sean said, "you are. People get sick all the time and selfishly give in so they don't have to fight it. Mr. Simpson pushed himself to the limit for you. You'll always know that."  
"Sean, I'm scared," Emma confided. "What if my mom can't handle it? What if I can't handle it?"  
"Your mom not be able to handle it?" Sean asked. "Your mom's been thrown more than one curveball and she's been okay. And you, you're a product of your mom. You have nothing to be scared of. You can handle it. And if you have trouble, then I'm here."  
"Yeah, well, you shouldn't be."  
"What?"  
"After how snobby I acted to you, there's way you should still be with me. I was a bitch, don't deny it."  
Sean smiled and laughed softly. "Maybe, but I wouldn't come back for just a bitch." Sean looked up at her with affection in his eyes.  
"Well, what would you come back for?"  
Sean wasn't the type to throw romance cliché's out, but he knew the only answer he could say: "Love."  
Emma's looked at him and her body fell into his arms, just as she had done many times when they were still dating.  
"I love you, Sean," Emma said softly, a tear rolling down her cheek.  
"I love you too, Emma," Sean replied, tilting her head back and kissing her.  
They kissed for a moment and then Emma pulled back and rested her head on Sean's shoulder. "Thank you for being here tonight, Sean. You're the only person who could have made this day have some sun."  
Sean didn't respond. He just looked at her, and pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. It was all he could do and all he wanted to do. 


	9. Don't

Marco spent a few days in thought before finally deciding he had to see Dylan. It would be difficult for him, he knew that, but it didn't matter. When Marco had been in any type of trouble, emotional or physical, Dylan stood up for him and it was Marco's turn to reciprocate the favor.  
Walking up to Dylan's front porch was an emotionally rattling experience. He'd stood there countless times before, but he never felt like he shouldn't knock. He didn't know how to confront Dylan's parents and he wasn't sure he wanted to. No, it wasn't his fault that Dylan was sick, but maybe they would think something outlandish, like all gay people were evil because one hurt Dylan.  
Finally, Marco rang the doorbell. He took small, nervous paces and the door finally opened. It was Mrs. Michalchuck.  
"Marco, hi," she said smiling.  
"Hey, Mrs. M, how are you?" Marco said with a sense of relief in his voice. She didn't seem mad or upset.  
Mrs. Michalchuck shrugged her shoulders and replied, "I'm okay. It's been a rough time for us, you know?"  
Marco's eyes filled with concern. "I know. I'm sorry, Mrs. M," Marco said.  
"Well, thank you, but you have no need to be. You didn't do anything. You didn't bring this into our life. It was here before you."  
"I know, but." Marco began.  
".but, nothing," Mrs. Michalchuck finished. "Please, Marco, we appreciate it, but you don't need to work yourself over it. It's nothing major yet."  
Marco nodded slowly and then looked up. "Is Dylan home?"  
She nodded. "Yeah, he is. He's in his room, same place he's been for a while. Maybe you can get him to come out. He needs some fresh air."  
"I'll do my best, but I don't know-he's a stubborn soul, you know?" Marco chuckled.  
"Oh, believe me," Mrs. Michalchuck said with a laugh, "I know. Go on back and try to change it."  
"Will do."  
Marco made his way down the hallway and knocked on the door to Dylan's room.  
"It's open," he heard Dylan's voice say.  
Marco pushed the door open slowly and peeked inside.  
"Mind if I come in?" Marco asked slowly and quietly.  
Dylan was sitting at his desk thumbing through a book. He turned around, looking slightly startled, and saw Marco.  
"Hey Marco, come on," Dylan said. He shut the book he was reading and turned off the desk lamp. There was enough light coming through the window to keep the room bright, but he had needed the lamp for some vision problems. "Or, if you want, you can stay in the doorway and that way, if you get scared, you can run off again like the other day."  
Marco felt like he had been punched in the stomach. He felt his eyes start to well up with tears. He couldn't believe Dylan had said it. He started to respond with something vicious, but he quickly closed his mouth when he remembered the situation at hand. He couldn't fault Dylan for anything at this moment. In retrospect, Marco knew he had acted a little irrationally, but he knew no other way to react. Leaving was what he felt was necessary.  
Dylan saw the hurt in Marco's eyes and he closed his eyes regretfully. "I'm sorry, Marco," Dylan said. "I didn't mean for that to come out that way."  
"No, no, it's okay," Marco said, trying to hold back the tears.  
"No, it's not," Dylan said. "It's not okay that I said it, but you have to understand why I did it." He noticed Marco was still standing in the doorway, so he took him by the hand and they both sat down on the foot of the bed.  
"Dylan, you don't owe me any explanation."  
"Yes, I do. Listen, when I came out, a lot of people turned their backs on me. I lost a lot of friends. Yeah, I kept a lot of great ones, and I was so happy to finally be out, but still, I felt a lot of people had turned their backs on me. Then, I met you, Marco. And, I mean, like I said, I was happy before, but when I met you, something clicked inside me-I finally felt real. I knew I was different from everyone, but I didn't care. You were the first person who let me be me completely. And then, this happened, and you ran off, and well, you know." His voice trailed off.  
"Dylan, I left because I was scared. You're the most important person in my life. What if.what if you."  
"What if I die?" Dylan finished the sentence.  
"Well, yeah," Marco said.  
"It's a little too early to pick out my burial plot," Dylan said with a laugh. "Magic Johnson: he's been living with HIV for years. I can live with this. I don't have AIDS yet, man."  
"Are you not scared of this?" Marco asked.  
"I'm terrified," Dylan admitted. "But, I know that there is nothing on earth that lasts forever. Everything has an ending, even though there's a different path for every person and every thing to get to that ending. Maybe this will kill me, I know. But, maybe it won't.  
"Marco, we have something great now. We honestly do. Please, don't spoil this for me, don't spoil what we have at the moment by being scared about the future. If you want to be scared of anything, be scared of the fact that I love you. Be scared of the fact that I've never said that to you or anyone before and be scared of the fact that our relationship has been taken to another level and we never know where it will go. Be scared of all that but don't be scared of my health. Don't."  
Marco's eyes grew wide. "You love me?"  
Dylan smiled and nodded. "Scary, huh?"  
Marco laughed and said, "Terrifying. I love you, too."  
Their eyes met and for a moment, the sickness that Dylan had seemed less important. At that moment, they realized how right they were for each other. No, it wouldn't be easy. No, it wouldn't be accepted by society. But, when had anything the two of them done ever been accepted. They both knew that, no matter what, they had someone to run to.  
  
[And, so, that does it. The last chapter was beyond weak, I know, but I'm not good at wrapping things up and I couldn't leave it open-ended. I'm sorry to disappoint, but, it's been fun writing-I hope everyone has enjoyed it. Email me at powerofthefist@charter.net with questions, comments, etc. or you can reach me over AIM at IceCrmKila. I look forward to from you all. Again, sorry for the let-down here, but, it's the best I could do.] 


End file.
